


Kaleidoscope

by h4amarch



Category: Hello Charlotte (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, More tags to be added, Unfortunate, the never-ending train of felix deaths
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21539278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h4amarch/pseuds/h4amarch
Summary: Felix Honikker no. 29 was nothing special. Not anything unique among the sea of Honikkers he had met. That’s what Bennett wanted to believe.—A recollection of all the Honikkers that came before. Bennett-centric exploration of his and all the Felixes' relationships. "OOC", except... just because they're clones doesn't mean they have the same personality, now, does it?
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [만화경](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21542971) by [h4amarch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/h4amarch/pseuds/h4amarch). 



> I started this piece of writing on the first day of May in 2018. At that point, Heaven's Gate wasn't out yet... but the brief flash of Felix and Bennett's interaction in it still vaguely fits.
> 
> Will try to update regularly—once every one or two weeks, maybe, with certain chapters being significantly shorter or longer than others. But I'm suffering in college & engineering track, so bear with me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The first one..._   
>  _..._   
>  _..._   
>  _..._   
>  _Actually, I think he was older than me. Which is really weird if you think about it for too long!_   
>  _Seniority is objectively nonsensical, anyhow._   
> 

“Ah, there you are, Bennett.”

The 11-year-old’s head snapped to the source of the voice. “Oh. Henry.” He let his line of sight return to the corpse he was dragging. “Need anything? I’m almost finished with this body-piling business.” It was good physical work, at least; something dull and repetitive to keep his brain running, but all the soap-induced activity made him restless after a while without anything new to do.

“Nothing too strenuous,” the doctor assured, his gloved hands outstretched. “It’s still fairly important, though. Do you remember Felix Honikker?”

Ugh, this thing again. “The successor project? Yeah.” He scratched the back of his head, the helmet of his hazmat suit luckily concealing his slight scowl. “But hey, it’s not like it was the only thing you talked about for a few years straight… or forgot all your other projects for until recently… or anything.” Just a bit of a jab. Just a tiny little one!

“Are you criticizing my abilities as a professional researcher, Bennett?” Dr. Huxley’s frown was more of a pout than anything serious.

Bennett grinned. “Nooo, sir.” The blond hurled the corpse up and over into a large bin. “Well, that’s the last of them. How _is_ Honikker doing, anyway?” He'd never seen the kid past brief glimpses during duties involving things outside of the basement. He was... uh... short? Probably? The soap mixed up his thoughts, and he quickly gave up on assembling the jigsaw puzzle of the mysterious successor project. Why bother?

The doctor’s brows furrowed. “That’s the thing I’m worried about. I was sure I could keep him occupied by giving him some of my finished projects to learn from, but he’s finishing them faster than I can give, with less care given to each project as time goes on. He’s more easily irritated, and quick to anger. Maybe I shouldn’t have given him memories of busy parents...” He tapped his chin, lost in thought. “My current hypothesis is that, with the current set of memories I’ve given him, Honikker requires outside validation and additional social relationships. Though the lack of parental figures did create a desire to follow in the footsteps of the next available adult—in other words, yours truly—it also seems to have created resentment towards neglect and isolation.”

“Oooookay,” Bennett frowned. “So why not get him an animal buddy, or a stuffed doll, or... whatever it is kids play with?”

Huxley sighed. “Well... he dissected the last hamster I gave him, and I’ve already given him a stuffed rabbit, to no avail.”

“You need more of them? Is that why you needed me? To go shopping?” _God,_ he hoped not. Social interaction was still hell: he only really pulled it off now with Henry and the other workers, and that was with regular soap doses.

Dr. Henry Huxley smiled, and Bennett knew he was in trouble, because that was the smile the doctor had given to the authorities right before they escaped to Earth on a ship. That smile meant he was trying to charm people. “No, no, nothing of the sort.” That was a relief. “Bennett, I’d like you... to become friends with him!”

 _That_ was not.

“Oh my god,” Bennett deadpanned.

“Don’t worry about it! It’ll be fine,” the doctor practically sang. Fucker probably knew Bennett wasn’t going to say no. A worker defying Henry Huxley was like an ant defying god. “Just... talk about science! He’ll be more awkward than you, since he’s had noone around his age to talk to!”

“You can’t promise that,” Bennett protested, but he had already been pushed halfway to the door.

“Have fun!”

Aaand he was out, alone in the silent hallway. He paused, sighed, and began the trek up the stairs to the 1st Floor of the House, grumbling all the way.

* * *

“Wh- can I... can I help you?”

Honikker was smaller than he’d initially thought, though he was sure Honikker was older than him by a year (if only physically). He had been sitting at a desk, reading, when Bennett opened the door uninvited. From the look of his “uncle”’s research papers strewn around him, Honikker had clearly been at it for quite a while. Maybe even the whole day. Two days? The pink-haired kid fidgeted, and Bennett realized too late that he’d taken too long to respond, like a normal social being. “Um... hey!” He had to talk about something he liked, quick. “Uh, uhm...” Think, Bennett, think! ...oh! “Hi! Do you like murder?”

Honikker stabbed his neck with a scalpel.

“Ow, you _shitting son of a-_ ” Bennett cursed, knocking the scalpel out of his hands. He pushed, and Honikker stumbled. Clearly, Henry hadn’t designed him with combat in mind. He took the chance to kick Honikker’s legs out from under him. “Where did you even _get_ that, _fuck_ ,” he said, fussing over his stab wound. It wasn’t fatal, as Bennett was

_a monster a killing machine a cannibal an abomination_

used to dodging blades faster than those, and he would definitely heal by tomorrow, but the scalpel had clearly been aimed at his jugular vein. Honikker may not have been designed for combat, but he damn well knew the fastest way to kill a man.

“Get off me, you- you _intruder_ , you have _no right to be in here-_ ”

Oh, right. His foot was still on the other’s chest, pinning him down. “Um... ya usually stab all your visitors?” Bennett asked, genuinely curious.

The other paused his flailing. “I do if their first sentence includes the word ‘murder’,” he said. His voice was shaking. Was he startled? Why would he...

Oh. _Ohhhhh_. That must not have been how normal social interaction went. Maybe you were only supposed to share what activities you liked _after_ you became friends. “Oops. Didn’t mean nothing with that line, sorry,” he said, lifting his foot. Honikker scrambled to get up, and snatched the scalpel up from the ground, clutching it with one hand. “Don’t be alarmed,” Bennett said, remembering the line from the book that Dr. Huxley had given him. _Social Interaction Vol. 2,_ Chapter 5: On How to Appear Non-Threatening. “Henry sent me to be friends with you.”

“Henr... m- my uncle? Why would...” Honikker paused, as if just registering the lab worker safety suit that Bennett was wearing. “Hm.” He slowly lowered his scalpel, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.

“My name’s Bennett!” _Social Interaction Vol. 1_ , Chapter 1: How to Introduce Yourself. “Nice to meet you!”

“I... see. Of course, if you are a worker, you might be accustomed to murder...” Honikker muttered to himself, then straightened out. “Felix Honikker. Dr. Henry Huxley’s nephew, though you must have already known that,” he said, slowly extending a hand.

Bennett took the hand and shook it up and down, just like he was supposed to. “A pleasure,” he said, still reciting the book’s lines from his memories.

Honikker raised an eyebrow. “You have a very strange definition of a pleasant meeting,” he said, retracting his hand.

Fuck, he’d messed up somewhere. But... Honikker’s expression was back to neutral, if only still a little stressed from the scuffle before. Maybe it was... still alright! “Cool, so I’m... supposed to stick around you and talk at you or something.”

Honikker’s eyes widened, and then he let out a huff. “Of course. It was only a matter of time before I was assigned a babysitter of some kind...”

“Bleh, I’ll have you know I’m not settling to be a babysitter! You can do whatever you want, I’m just here for whatever reason. And if you actually are going to be a baby I’m getting my chainsaw,” Bennett grumbled, throwing himself onto one of the chairs.

Honikker smiled bemusedly, equal parts amused, confused, and fearful. “I can assure you, I am not an infant.”

“Eh, then that’s that.”

* * *

Honikker bounced a few ideas off of him. Bennett always agreed because he didn’t really know what the fuck the kid was talking about (he was more of a chemistry person than a biology nerd), but it wasn’t too bad. All in all, it was a pretty good excuse for staying out of doing _boring_ work.

Of course, this one was just an early prototype, so Bennett wasn’t too surprised when he opened the door one day to find Honikker sprawled on the floor, a significant amount of blood around the corpse. He sighed, then hefted the body over his shoulder to carry into the basement.

“Well, one month is far too short of a lifespan,” Henry Huxley mused as Bennett dusted himself off. “Clearly, there are some crucial adjustments I have to make to the stem cells.”

“Yeah, okay. Now get me back on chainsawing duty,” Bennett quipped.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Honikker number 2 had strikingly blue hair the first day. That's all I really remember about him. Weird, isn't it, how a person can be reduced to a single color?_   
>  _Technically speaking, a person can be reduced to a single strand of DNA._   
>  _But color doesn't even have DNA!_   
>  _...you've got me there._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy turkey day break!

The second time he was on socialization duty, three days later, Honikker looked mostly the same. His hair was a neon blue, but that was about it. “Hey, what happened to your head?” he snickered. It was probably Florence. Ever since the other worker had found out about the specific dye brand compatible with Uberians, she'd been excited to grow her hair out to try it out. Using Honikker as a test subject, though... Wasn't that including a new variable in the experiment, or whatever? Henry would probably get mad if he found out; it sure was a good thing he never actually came up to talk to Honikker past regular check-ups.

Honikker tore his gaze off the specimen he was dissecting. “...one of the other workers dyed my hair while I was asleep." _Caaalled it._ "Can I... help you?”

Oops. Bennett had forgotten that he wasn’t able to just resume conversations he'd been having with the first one; this Honikker was supposed to have a clean slate of memories. “Nah, Henry sent me over to help you socialize or something.”

“Wh- I-” Honikker No. 2 spluttered, his face flushing. “I can socialize _just_ _fine_ by myself, thank you!”

“Alright, whatever you say.” Bennett shrugged. “In any case, I’m supposed to be the person you talk at when you get stuck on something? I dunno.” He grinned widely, like Chapter 6 of his book had told him to. This time, no talk about murder upfront—no getting stabbed! “The name’s Bennett.”

Honikker’s face gradually began losing its flush. “...right. Mine is Felix Honikker, though uncle must have told you that already.” He shuffled uncomfortably. “Am I supposed to talk through my dissection, or...?” Honikker sighed. “I apologize, but I have not gotten ‘stuck’ on something yet, so you will not have much to do as of now. As unfortunate as that is.”

“That's fine, that's fine. ...hmm.” Bennett crossed his arms and leaned against the bookcase by the door. “Why do you talk like a textbook?”

Honikker paused, his shoulders growing stiff. “I... pardon?”

Whoops. Did he strike a nerve? “I dunno. You don’t talk with, uh... like, you’re all ‘I have not’ instead of ‘I haven’t’, and all that stuff.” It was funny, how with all his knowledge and carefully constructed cranial tissue, Honikker still knew less about how to talk than Bennett, who'd learned it all from TV. Really, all that bullshit about TV rotting brains—sooner or later those critics would realize their mistake!

The flush returned onto the test subject's cheeks. “I... that is... that’s... just the way I speak,” he said. His tone was definitely defensive. “The linguistic portion of my mind just works that way. You... can’t... blame someone for how their brain works.”

 _So what if I’m not ‘smart enough’ to be in the_ _A-type department? I did_ **_everything_ ** _you asked!_  
 _God, it_ **_hurts_** _, can't you hear me?_ _!  
_ _I hope you get_ _no miracle medicine out of destroying my life,_ _I **hate**_ _you, I hate_ **_all of this-_**

“...yeah, I get that. Sorry, Mr. Honikker. Didn’t mean anything bad.”

Honikker looked over his shoulder at Bennett. “That... you are forgiven,” he said. “And please, call me Felix. Honikker is what one would call my parents.”

Bennett blinked. “Huh. Alright.” Parents—right. The ones that didn't exist, not Henry. Though was it really even correct to say Henry counted as one? What were parents even supposed to be like, anyway? Would Honikker start noticing the holes in his memories and break down if he asked too much?

As Felix turned back around to work on his specimen, Bennett thought he saw a brief smile on his forever-frowning face. Weird. Must have been a trick of the light.

* * *

Felix became another failed trial another month in.

Bennett was eating a sandwich when the clone burst into the room, blood pouring from his mouth. He choked, took one last startled gasp, and collapsed. The blond stayed where he was, sandwich halfway to his mouth, just due to pure surprise.

Then he set it down. “Aw, heck. I thought I was done with work today…”

* * *

“No contractions in his speech?”

“Nope,” Bennett confirmed, “not a single one. Unless he tried real hard.” He was leaning over the lab table that held Felix the second's corpse, kicking his legs. Henry was within his safe observation chamber, but he could hear everything through microphones and speakers, so Bennett had no need to yell through the glass. "Is that an issue, anyway? Dunno if I should've called it out, now that I think about it."

Henry's eyes were stuck on the monitors, reading whatever data about the clone it was spewing out. "Get off of its legs, you're crushing the blood vessels," he called offhandedly, then hummed in thought. “It's not important purely _objectively_ speaking, of course, but gaining sponsors and grants for certain projects would require social interaction, eventually... Perhaps it’s due to his reading material being almost solely comprised of research papers, which _are_ written in that manner.” He set down his coffee. “Thank you for bringing that to my attention. I never really noticed it in the first place, haha.”  
  
Bennett came out into the observation chamber through the doors, shaking off the chemical sprays from his helmet, then stuck out his tongue. “Maybe it’s because you’re both _basically_ made out of science.”

Henry laughed. “One of us more so than the other, I would think.”


	3. (3&4), 5, (6-10)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The fifth one was nice. He played video games! Betcha thought I was the one who came up with the idea to play them during break. ...I don't remember a lot of them. The third one, the fourth one... seventh, ninth, tenth; they probably had lives, but..._   
>  _..._   
>  _Do you blame me for not remembering?_   
>  _It's impossible to expect someone to keep track of that many people, especially when they're so similar._   
>  _...mm._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know anything about Hatoful Boyfriend. Please don't sue me.
> 
> Also, I'm officially in finals hell week! And right after are the holidays, and then a trip to Magfest with some friends, so... not sure how update schedule works out then.

Two more Felix Honikkers came and went after that. One talked to him, the other didn’t, even though they were in the same room. One died within days, while the other lasted for several months. Bennett didn’t really mind that part. Mostly, he was bothered by the similarities. It was beginning to feel as if he was going to be stuck beta-testing the same model of androids. Plasmid pBR322 this, Ice-9 Specimens that…

He was kind of bored.

* * *

* * *

“Bored?”

He and Felix No. 5 were in the hallway with arms full of foodstuffs, having just exited the kitchen. The bags of chips and dips were a new addition to the diet, but Henry wanted to test out the limits of the clone's digestive system anyway, so Bennett got to eat them alongside him. He considered it an added work bonus. “Yeah. It kinda feels like I’m just there for you to bounce shit off of. Which _is_ my job, I guess, but still. I’d at least like to stick a knife in things like you do.”

Felix scowled. “First of all, dissection is _not_ just ‘ _sticking a knife in things_ ’. It requires a lot of caution and protocols to follow, not to mention the fragility of some specimens will make it more difficult for the scalpel to separate layers of the epidermi… you’re tuning me out, aren’t you.”

“Huh? What?” Honestly, he was more startled by Felix using contractions than catching Bennett ignoring him. Though Henry had assured him that it was to be expected starting with this Felix onwards, it was still weird.

A sigh. “Never mind. But more importantly, if you’re bored…” Felix paused as if debating something in his mind. He glanced up at Bennett, and leaned in, whispering conspiratorially. “If I gave you another activity that you’d enjoy more, would you swear your secrecy and not tell my uncle?”

Well then. This was new. He didn't even know Felix clones could suggest a course of action in a non-condescending way. Was that kind of thing genetic? “Heck, sure, why not. What is this, a blood contract?”

Felix laughed. “Just follow me.” He walked further up the hallway, past his workspace, and placed a hand on the doorknob of a very familiar door.

“The TV Room?” Bennett raised an eyebrow. “I was kinda thinking of something other than soap operas. You know I watch those already, right?”  
  
Felix dropped the bags of chips he was carrying. They landed on the couch, the vibrantly colored packages crinkling. “Soap operas are irrelevant to all this,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Now, wait here until I get my laptop,” he said, leaving the room.

Bennett sat heavily on the couch. “What, so you can show me a presentation on your project instead of telling me about it?” he grumbled to the empty room. He grabbed a handful of chips, salty crumbs scattering across his tongue. ...could use some soap! But Florence already got on his ass enough about withdrawal symptoms and crashes. Those didn't sound like the most pleasant experiences anyway, so best not to go down that slippery slope, he supposed.

Felix came back a few minutes later with a handful of cords in one hand and a laptop in the other. “Help me set this up,” he said, setting the laptop near the TV monitor.

“Uhh.” A ball of wires flew at him, and he caught it in midair. “The fuck is this.”

“Just untangle them for me.”

Several plugs and ports later, the TV monitor flickered on to show the screen of Felix’s laptop. “… wow,” Bennett dryly commented. “Crazy fun.”

Felix huffed. “Have some patience,” he berated, before clicking an icon. Suddenly, the monitor was displaying a set of bright pink boxes and a screen filled with… birds? Felix grinned at Bennett’s flummoxed expression, his eyes bright. “I thought you might like playing this. It’s a form of interactive entertainment, categorized as a visual novel, called Hatoful Boyfriend.”

“Holy shit.” Bennett blinked. “Wait, is this what you were doing every time I couldn’t find you in your lab?”  
  
Felix stuck out his tongue and made a noise. “A-as if I would be entertained by a simply coded simulation for romantically courting _avians_. This is just what I picked out based on your sense of critical humor and social-interaction-based media. But… you’re right in a sense. I _am_ most likely playing some form of… video game whenever work gets tiring.”

“You? Using the words ‘work’ and ‘tiring’ in the same sentence? What the fuck,” Bennett laughed. “Who are you and what have you done with the workaholic I _usually_ hang out with?”

Felix sat down, a controller in hand. He handed it to Bennett. “I bring you here and let you in on a secret hobby, and this is the thanks I get,” he grouched, though Bennett could see him suppressing a smile. “Truly, I ought to show you who’s exactly the superior in first-person shooters.”

“The _real_ Felix Honikker would _never_ ,” Bennett drawled, taking the controller from Felix. There were so many buttons... He tested out each one on its own, hands steadily figuring out the locations while his eyes glanced up at the screen.

Felix shrugged, grabbing the nearest bag of chips. “Well, _this_ Felix Honikker would, and I’m as existent and ‘real’ as you are. Maybe you should concede defeat now and admit that I’m much less one-dimensional than you might have initially thought,” he gloated.

Bennett grew quiet. He selected the ‘♥NEW GAME’ option, pretending to be figuring out the controls in silence while his mind tried to sort the tangled mess of discomforting emotions that had just unexpectedly hit him. Surprise? Guilt? Disbelief? Had the previous Felix models done this? Or was Felix Honikker No. 5 an unexpected glitch? Defective? ...gaining individuality?

 _“Hey, isn’t this one supposed to go to the skin treatment department?”_  
_“Eh, if you think so. All these B-types look the same_ _to me. All pretty smiles and no souls, haha.”_  
_“You say that, but we’re gonna get in trouble if we misplace these, you know?”_

His head hurt.

A fucking _pigeon_ showed up on the screen and started talking, and all thoughts left his head as a bark of incredulous laughter left his lips. Next to him, he could hear Felix huff in amusement. "The plot actually gets very complex later," he heard him reassure.

Eh. It was best not to dwell on it. Better to enjoy this silly bird game with Felix.

* * *

"He was WHAT? WHAT THE _FUCK. THEY CAN'T DO THIS. I OFFICIALLY HATE THIS GAME._ "

"I... really didn't expect you to get this invested."

" _MAYBE IT WAS BETTER IF SHE NEVER LOVED HIM AT AAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL THEN HE WOULD STILL BE HEEEREEEE,_ "

"Bennett?!"

* * *

Felix introduced him to other games after that. As the two of them went through platformers, first-person shooters, visual novels, puzzles, and whatever else they could find, Bennett found this Felix to be much more… rough around the edges. He’d abandon work if Bennett suggested it, and he grinned at the crude jokes Bennett made.

...he showed a lot more concern, too. He’d constantly put his current research on hold as he tried to figure out how to help with Bennett’s reopening sores, or help distract him from the itching inside of him as the surgery scars on his internal organs healed. The help was often minimal, but Bennett appreciated it nonetheless.

Bennett found him three months later, late at night, lying on the couch in front of the largest screen in the TV Room. He had no heartbeat. Bennett cracked a wry smile. At least he died doing what he liked most. “G’night, Felix,” he mumbled.

He picked up his friend and headed to the basement.

* * *

“It was an improved design,” Henry said later, while he extracted cells from the corpse to compare the DNA from start to end. “No unusual mutations,” he noted, looking at the analysis, and turned back to Bennett. “I tried to remedy the extreme formality you mentioned earlier using a concentrated form of a human hormone called oxytocin. He was more biologically stable than the others—note the lack of internal bleeding upon death—but the dose may have to be reduced regardless, since this one kept skipping out on work.”

Bennett’s heart skipped a beat. “You knew, huh?” he said, a plastic grin on his face. He didn’t even know why he felt anxious. He wasn’t responsible for covering for Felix, and this Felix was dead anyway. Besides, skipping out on work he was given was technically bad! That wasn't something he could argue with.

Henry chuckled. “Of course I knew. The research he was working on wasn’t too crucial, anyhow. What’s important is the Honikker’s willingness to continue _my_ work.” He dropped the blood samples into the disposal bin. “I think we’ll have to consider this one a failure in terms of those parameters,” he sighed, turning to leave.

‘He didn’t look like a failure to me,’ Bennett wanted to say.

“That’s too bad,” he said instead.

* * *

* * *

“Video games?” Felix No. 6 looked up at him. He looked skeptical. “I’ve never played any. What kind do you even play? Demolitions-related ones?”

Figured he'd make that kind of assumption. “Naw, you’d be surprised! I’m more into the story, though explosions definitely can’t hurt.” Bennett grinned widely, ignoring Felix's brief interjection of _'Explosions most definitely can'_. “I know a bunch of ‘em that need brains to figure out and stuff, too. Wanna join?”

“Hah, as if,” Felix said, crossing his arms, but he seemed to be considering it. Bennett let him stew in silence. He’d come around eventually.

“...do you need any help on the puzzle-based ones?”

There it was.

* * *

* * *

Felix No. 8 set down his glass of soap. “You know, I would have never pegged you down as a physics-game enthusiast,” he remarked as he tried out his solution.

4/5! Well done!  
**> Replay** Proceed

Aw, even from behind his slowly-growing pile of _Charlie's Potato-Flavored Computer Chips_ bags, he could see Felix hadn't even tried his best. That was at _least_ five more support thingies than he needed for that bridge. “That’s fair. Bridges and ski-lifts kinda pale in comparison to VNs. But I do still like making ‘em!” Bennett puffed out his chest, then paused. He faltered.

 _I’m as existent and ‘real’ as you are. Maybe you_ _should concede defeat now and admit that-_

“...I’m much less one-dimensional than you might have initially thought.”

Felix didn’t notice his change in demeanor. “Hm. I have to admit you’re right,” he mused as Bennett looked away, passing the controller to the blond lounging on the couch. “I’d never imagined that I’d like video games, either, but you introduced me, and here we are.” Wordlessly, Bennett tried out his own answer to the level.

5/5! Excellent!  
Replay **> Proceed**

“Congratulations,” Felix said. Bennett downed a glass of strawberry soap, despite Felix’s chiding him lightly to slow down. It didn’t feel like he’d won.


	4. 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Oh man, the eleventh one... Not gonna lie, he really scared me!_   
>  _Even with the Bennett-brand chainsaw and all..._   
>  _...I remember thinking maybe Henry would be happy with that one. But now I dunno what he wanted._   
>  _Maybe he didn't want anything like me in the first place._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Less serious chapter title: the obligatory March-brand manipulative bastard character.

A few more dead bodies later, the lab that Felix used remained suspiciously empty after the next clone went active. Bennett puzzled over it for a few days, but figured Henry would tell him if something had gone wrong.

When Bennett set foot into the basement, helmet on and ready to clean the muck off his chainsaw, it was not Henry Huxley who he saw, but Felix Honikker No. 11, who was hunched over on one of the dissection tables. “Florence, you can’t _possibly_ have finished the work that early,” said the prodigy, and then looked past his shoulder. “Oh,” he said, eyes scanning Bennett’s name tag. “You’re not Florence.”

Bennett dropped the end of his chainsaw to the ground. “And you’re no Henry.” He’d started drinking more soap than usual, but he knew he wasn’t delirious enough to mistake the tall and gas-masked scientist for the smaller, pink-haired one. Who was he, to act like he had all the authority around here? ...was this a successful clone? If Henry gave him the go-ahead to take over his lab entirely; he would've mentioned _something_ about that sooner, right? Maybe he was forgetting to tell Bennett important things again?

Felix turned around fully. “Hello. You must be one of the three workers I haven’t met. Felix Honikker,” he said, tilting his head as a greeting. “I’d offer a hand, but,” he raised his viscera-covered hands, “as you can see, I’m a bit… occupied.”

Bennett shrugged, standing in vague discomfort, just a tad bit awkwardly. “You’re gonna let a little blood stop a handshake?” he asked.

Felix shook his head. “I wouldn’t, but this corpse is full of bacteria, so I’ll make an exception.” He returned to his work. “If you see Florence, please let her know she shouldn’t be slacking off.”

Bennett remained in place, processing what Felix had just said. Florence slacking off? From what? As far as he knew, she was on break. A few moments of silence passed. “Um. Need anything else?”

“No.”

“Oookay.” He took the cleaning rod, along with a rag. Felix remained silent, all the way until Bennett left the room. Outside, Bennett checked himself and wondered if he’d just hallucinated all of that.

* * *

Bennett ran into Florence about ten minutes later, in Charlotte’s old room. “Hey, Flo,” he said, and then yelped when she jumped a foot into the air. “Holy shit, what the hell?!”

“Oh, it’s just you,” Florence exhaled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. It was dyed bright purple, this time. “You scared me, Ben.”

His eyebrows rose. “Uhh. Why’re you so jumpy all of a sudden?”

Florence tilted her head. “You don’t know? Almost all the workers do!” She leaned in, smiling too brightly, and whispered conspiratorially, “We’re getting extra soap doses or other stuff we want by doing Felix’s errands. Things we’re not _supposed_ to be doing. Ooh, spooky!” She wiggled her fingers.

Bennett frowned. “Errands. You like being a butler?”

The other worker shook her head vehemently. “It’s not doing _chores_ , it’s like… doing jobs for each other!” She held up a bucket full of mechanical bugs. “It’s not boring jobs, either! It’s fun, _and_ I get more parts for 3-phase compressors for ‘em!” She raised her free arm in the air, showing off what Bennett assumed to be one of those parts. “No more motor explosions for me!” she grinned.

“Huh.” Bennett shrugged. “So does Felix have a grudge on Charlotte’s old room, or…”

“Oh, no,” Florence said. “It’s still a few years until School, but he made these little things that’s gonna vaporize any bullies she meets! So I’m sewing them onto her shirts.” She paused. “Wait, the old room?”

“Last time I checked, she’s moved into the leftmost corridor.”

Florence blanched. “Oh my god. Seriously?”

“Yep.”

“...I’ve been sewing these bugs into the wrong clothes.”

“Rest in pieces, Flo.”

“Beeeen~” she whined. “Help me out! I’ll share my payment!”

“Nope, bye.”

“Nooo! Don’t leave meee!”

* * *

Bennett realized one important fact very quickly: if this Felix wanted something, he would get it. From stealing food from the 2nd Floor to switching the leech jars with the maggot jars during surgery, by the time the current Charlotte got home from School, it would be done. Felix seemed to know exactly who would be willing to do what for the least amount of ‘payment’.

The blond himself had joined the others in making deals with Felix. It wasn’t really clear how dying the magcat green resulted in Felix getting candy, but that was what Felix wanted, and that was what happened.

“Understandably, changing the magcat’s color made Charlotte concerned for its health,” Felix said when he asked about it. “As the nearest available source of medical help—nearest _approachable_ source, mind you, which is why she didn’t ask my occupied uncle—I would be consulted.” The magcat purred innocently near its food bowl, finishing up the last scraps of _CRIPPLING LACK OF SELF-WORTH_ and _CONSTANT DOUBT ABOUT INSIGNIFICANT ACTIONS_.

Bennett frowned. “And what’d you tell her?”

“I told her I’d look into it, while she asked Aiden for things that might help. I simply suggested the idea of carbohydrates, of which the nearest supply was the candy in Aiden’s cupboard." He tossed a row of smarties in the air, flipping it end over end and catching it with one hand. "When the magcat was revealed to be completely healthy, she offered me some as recompense for my time.”

Bennett sighed. “Maaan, when you say it like that it sounds so obvious. I want candy.”

Felix threw some his way. “What can I say? It’s a talent.” He grinned, and Bennett felt like he was looking at someone truly fearsome.

* * *

When this Felix died, Bennett felt a terrible disappointment, akin to the one he felt when his favorite soap opera ended.

“Aw, man. Welp, it was fun while it lasted, huh?” he asked. Felix, of course, couldn’t answer.

* * *

“Ruthless, efficient _and_ innovative, but ultimately too curious.”

“Curious?” Bennett asked. “I mean, he was definitely like a mafia boss and all, but I never saw him snooping around or nothing.” He crammed a body bag into the incinerator, scoffing at the lock of blond hair sticking out of the zippers. Whoever had handled this corpse had done a sloppy job.

Henry shook his head. He looked irritated. “He knew the weaknesses of each tenant and exploited it, Charlotte Wiltshire’s included. If he had gotten her to use that strange viscerocomplex within her vessel on his behalf, it might have been catastrophic. What if she used her wish to bring his nonexistent parents to the House? Or if he asked to know the truth of his own birth?”

Bennett shuffled uncomfortably. “I mean, she knows the wish is gonna kill her, so I doubt she’d do that.”

“No,” Henry sighed, “I suppose she wouldn’t. But still, with Wiltshire’s lack of self-worth, it was a risk. And in any case, Felix did almost get a worker to reveal the existence of other Honikker clones.”

His heart skipped two whole beats. “What? Who?”

“November. She _was_ always talkative, but with Felix giving her additional soap doses…” Dr. Huxley sighed. “Well, no matter. She won’t be working with us any longer,” he said.

Bennett’s mouth went dry. Suddenly the blond hair sticking out from the body bag didn’t seem so funny. He remembered, then, that no matter how frightening this Felix had been, Henry was a million times more dangerous. He’d almost forgotten.


	5. 12 (The Mistake: Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _..._   
>  _And twelve was..._   
>  _...yeah. Twelve was. He was good. I mean, we fucking **hated** each other's guts, but._   
>  _..._   
>  _I guess in the end, he was right to hate me._   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A mistake is made.
> 
> (Twelve is one of my favorites.)
> 
>  **Content warning:** Depictions of soap withdrawal (which can be seen as a metaphor for drug or alcohol withdrawal), which involves warnings for emetophobia. Additionally, gore depicted in a nightmare. If you wish to skip this part, please skip from the first three bolded asterisks (labeled "(Warned content starts here)") to the next (labeled "(Warned content ends here)").

Bennett was jumpy for the rest of the time before he was assigned to the next Felix. He’d been drinking more soap for it, but it didn’t seem to make _everything_ go away. Thoughts of November and Felix and Henry and body bags pressed themselves to the back of his skull, whispering, muttering, lying in wait. _That could be you_ , some voice whispered, _one little misstep and you might end up dead, B12. You'll always be fearing for your life, working under an overman-_

A hand clasped his shoulder from behind as he was walking down the hallway. He yelped and turned to find Henry looking at him with concern. “O-oh! Hey, Henry!” he greeted, a bit too loudly.

Henry didn’t seem to notice—if he had, he didn’t care. “Yes, hello. Bennett, before I assign you to the next Felix, there’s something I need to warn you about. I seem to have added the incorrect concentration of the mixture for serotonin.” He looked towards the lab space with distaste. “So, well… I’d be careful with this one,” he advised, before straightening back up. “Good luck!” he encouraged cheerfully, then walked away into the basement.

“The fuck?” Bennett grumbled, turning around to head to the door. “Nearly gave me a heart attack just to tell me that…” He opened the door to Felix No. 12’s lab—

**_thunk!_ **

and immediately ducked. A surgical needle had flown through the air where Bennett’s head had just been, lodging itself into the far wall of the hallway. He looked up to see the newest clone with an arm reaching into his lab coat to retrieve more needles. He was scowling, but the expression was strangely neutral, as if being irritable and angry was his default state. “Ever heard of knocking?”

Bennett’s left eye twitched. The thoughts in the back of his mind quieted, cowering away from the anger bubbling up in his head. _You're an experiment,_ he wanted to say, _and I'_ _m not. Not anymore. So you don't get to **talk** at me like that anymore._ “Ever heard of ‘it’s not just your fucking house’?”

Honikker froze, his eyes narrowing. “The ownership of the House is irrelevant. Do tell, _whose_ room is this, exactly?”

“A immature midget’s, apparently.”

Honikker stood. Bennett kicked the door closed.

* * *

“Woah, what happened to you?”

Bennett filled a cup with water from the sink and poured it on an acid burn on his ear. It’d heal, sure, but it still hurt like a bitch. “Shut up, Flo,” he hissed.

Florence pouted. Green hair, blah blah, Bennett really didn't have the patience to give a shit at the moment. “Geez, what’s this all about? Did you not get your soap dosage?” A loud bang came from the room across the hall, and she jolted, turning to stare at the door to the lab with wide eyes. “Um. Is Felix okay?”

“Hopefully not.” He heard Honikker curse loudly at the chair he’d just kicked, and smirked.

* * *

“Are you certain you can handle yourself here if you lose sight of us?” the pink-haired boy asked. They were surrounded by glittering silver sand, reflecting the dim but sweltering sunlight from the sky. Bennett looked up and squinted. The sun was copper-colored. Even with the vaguely dim light of the star, the shininess of literally everything around them made all the eyes on the outside of his body cringe.

Charlotte smiled. “I’ll be alright. I’m just tagging along for fun!” She looked out into the horizon. “And this place is so pretty and calm, I’m sure everyone here is nice, too.”

The biologist sighed, dragging a hand down the side of his face. “Charlotte, the aesthetic value of the environment won’t tell you _anything_ about the volatility of the flora and fauna. This desert might be filled with giant worms and other such dangerous organisms.”

Bennett snorted and slung his chainsaw handle over his shoulder. “Dangerous for _you_ , maybe.” All the materials for the trip was on his back. No matter how much Charlotte apologized for making him carry it, the fact stood that neither she nor Felix was really capable of carrying a portable tent, three sleeping bags, and a bunch of research equipment all at once.

Felix bared his teeth. “Anything that can harm me can harm you, we’re the _same_ _species_.”

The blond grinned smugly, though he couldn’t immediately pinpoint what had put the pep in his step. It must have been because he liked bullying this Felix so much. How strangely reminiscent the feeling was.

 ~~_"B45 was feeling ill today. I saw her vomit behind the set for the newest shampoo_ _commercial."_~~  
 ~~~~_~~Best Buddy — "If your friend is feeling ill, report immediately." 1 report out of 10 collected.~~_  
 _ ~~I could get one more by the end of the year, I bet.~~_  
 ~~_B13 looks pretty faint already, and she's only gone through one movie trailer._ ~~

“Sure, but at least I’m not a twig like you! You’ll get eaten before you can run with your tiny legs!” he teased, leaning over, dangerously close to letting his elbow rest on Honikker's head.

The other pushed his elbow away with a single hand, baring his teeth. “Oh, and who’s the one _woefully_ overdressed for this temperature? You’ll collapse from dehydration before you can swing that metal monstrosity!”

A twitch of the eye. “Did you just call Sawyer a ‘monstrosity’?”

“Oh Science, you named your _chainsaw_?”

“Yeah, like you can talk, plant lover!”

“At least Venus is _alive_!”

“Guys,” pleaded Charlotte, “please stop fighting…”

Before either of them could shout ‘this doesn’t concern you’, something burst out of the sand dune half a mile away from them. It extended into the sky, glinting in the light and draping a shadow over the three of them. A deafening screech filled the air, lingering even after it stopped.

“Giant worm. Ha,” said Honikker, still staring up at it.

“Fuck off,” said Bennett, doing the same.

The worm sniffed the air, turned towards them, and dove back into the sand. The sand rose in the path of the worm, heading towards them at a breakneck speed.

The two of them grabbed Charlotte and ran.

* * *

“Ha! Who would’ve thought the worm ate soap?” Bennett crowed. His chainsaw glistened with golden blood. Next to them lay the trisected remains of the worm.

“I would’ve,” Honikker grumbled. Bennett ignored him.

“It’s a good thing I always bring extra soap on long trips! Sucker fell for that decoy _so_ hard!” He put one foot on the chunk of flesh and posed dramatically, as if the whole chase had been a hunting game. Next to him, he heard Felix’s muffled screaming.

Charlotte clapped politely, then tilted her head. “Wait, but all of the soap got eaten… do you want to go back for more, Bennett? You like drinking that stuff, right?”

He… actually, it was probably a good idea to do that, now that the worm was killed, but. He looked over to Honikker, who was watching him with a raised eyebrow. “Naaah. It’s just three days!” he said, shooting a glare at the other. Like hell he was gonna let Honikker win.

“Okay! So let’s find a place to pitch our tent!” cheered Charlotte.

* * *

*** * * (Warned content [soap withdrawal] starts here)**

* * *

When he woke up the next morning, his head rang with something that sounded like screaming. He tried to sit up to find out where it was coming from, but then a white flash tore through his vision and he had to lean on the flimsy fabric wall of the tent to steady himself. His head felt like it was swimming underwater and being eaten alive at the same time. He cursed, and then winced at the volume of his own voice.

Besides him, a large white blur came into view. “Oh my god. Bennett? Are you okay?”

He was definitely _not_ okay. He opened his mouth to answer what he assumed to be Charlotte, but quickly closed it. He threw his thick blanket aside and rushed out. He stumbled six steps away from the tent before the sick rose up his throat. Bright green vomit spewed from his mouth.

“Bennett!” Charlotte ran up behind him, fretting about what to do. He tried to answer, but another wave of nausea hit him and he almost choked as more green stained the pure silver sand below him. He could hear Honikker getting out of the tent, his voice still laced with sleep. _God_ , what incredible fucking timing. Everything hurt.

He felt a hand rest on his shoulder and rub his back, a comforting weight he could focus on while his stomach gave up on him. “Thanks, Charlotte,” he gasped when the vomiting stopped and the nausea receded a bit. He heard a light cough, and turned around to see Honikker awkwardly removing his hand from his back. Felix muttered a ‘You’re welcome’ and headed back into the tent.

Charlotte handed him a tissue. “Are you alright?”

He spat out the leftover saliva in his mouth to the side, and wiped his lips. “Sure.”

They headed back in, where the biologist prepared them both a cup of mint tea. Charlotte thanked him. Bennett wordlessly took the offered cup and took a sip. He swirled the liquid in his mouth, the taste of menthol rinsing off the sour taste of acid.

The faint warmth that Felix’s hand had left on Bennett’s shoulder lingered up until he, exhausted, fell asleep again.

* * *

*** * * (Warned content [soap withdrawal] ends here)**

*** * * (Warned content [gore in nightmare] starts here)**

* * *

_He stood in a field of pink, tall grass. He’d just escaped his home planet. Behind him, the smoking remains of Henry’s ship lay in ruins. Up ahead he saw Felix, who shouldn’t exist yet. “Hey! Felix!” he yelled, starting to run towards him._

_The grass in front of him screamed when he stepped on it._

_Startled, he stumbled back, only for the grass behind him to cry out when it was trampled. Gritting his teeth, Bennett plowed forward. “Felix! It’s me!” Felix still didn’t turn around. It was getting harder to move forward, each step sinking into the ground as if it was a marsh. He looked down. The soil was seeping blood and pooling around his feet as they sank in._

_He tried to move, and suddenly the ground opened up, swallowing his legs. “Felix! Felix, what- hey, help!” he yelled. It occurred to him that he didn’t know which version of Felix that was in the distance._

_“...first sentence includes the word ‘murder’...” someone whispered._

_“Huh?” He couldn’t tell where the voice had come from._

_“_ _...is what one would call my parents..._ _”_

_There it was again, louder this time. Suddenly, more and more whispers came, from all around him, and the grass curled around him, trapping him in place. It felt more like hair than grass—and as soon as he thought it, red eyes opened up in the dirt, staring up at him, hateful and wistful at the same time._

_“_ _...existent and ‘real’ as you are…_ _”_  
“ _...congratulations…_ _”_  
“ _...is irrelevant…_ _”  
“_ _...this corpse is full of…_ _”_

_The words echoed and overlapped, and somehow, the sound was more unbearable than the shrieking had been. Bennett clamped his hands over his ears. The millions of murmurs clamored, mixing together and rising above each other at the same time, becoming an incoherent, dizzying buzz of noise until they all whispered, in unison-_

_“Bennett, how many times have I died?”_

_He opened his eyes and realized that Felix had spoken, not as some demonic legion, but in a small, scared voice. It was eerily similar to what faint memory he had of B45's—the first rival he'd ever thrown under the bus, in pursuit of his fruitless dream of being among A-ranks. He found himself on his feet, the ground under him silent and solid. Felix was right in front of him. He reached out and grabbed his shoulder. “Felix?”_

_Felix turned. His eyes were missing, but he looked happier than any clone ever had. “You won't ever get to meet me,” he murmured softly, smiling as if he knew something nobody else did, before blood spilled out of his mouth in a waterfall of red._

_He bubbled and melted under Bennett’s hand, and in his place stood Henry, looming over Bennett. The pink grass around them had turned black, slowly rotting into the ground._ _“We’ll have to run through some clones, inevitably,” Henry smiled. Eyes sprouted out of the sores on Bennett’s skin. “Sounds better than dying, doesn’t it?”_

_Bennett opened his mouth and screamed._

* * *

*** * * (Warned content [gore in nightmare] ends here)**

* * *

Bennett awoke with a gasp. His hands were sweaty. The sky was still dark. He got up and crept out of his sleeping bag, walking slowly as to not upset his stomach or the other two sleeping in the tent with him.

Outside, the sky had darkened to a pure black, with a single, pink moon and no stars. He stood there and stared until the colors brought images of the dream to the forefront of his mind, unbidden. He gagged, but there was nothing left in his stomach to be emptied. He heard footsteps in the soft sand and looked up to see Felix with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Need more tea?” he asked, two cups in his hand. Bennett shook his head, still feeling like he was a millisecond away from dry heaving again. Felix set down the extra cup in the sand and stood back up, taking a sip out of his own.

The moon glimmered brightly down at them. Bennett blinked his watery eyes. He heard Felix shuffle next to him.

“Why did you tell Charlotte you didn’t need your soap supply?”

Bennett huffed. Way to kick him when he was down. “I… thought I’d live without it,” he mumbled.

Felix sighed. “That’s not why you didn’t go back for it, and we both know it.”

Bennett grit his teeth. “Fine,” he growled, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t want to give you something to gloat over,” he muttered, turning away.

A few minutes passed. Bennett felt a hand on his shoulder and made to shrug it off, but the grip was too firm. He turned around. Felix was looking at him with hardened eyes. “Bennett,” he said. “I know we’re not on the best of terms-”

“No kidding,” Bennett laughed bitterly.

“-but I would never make light of things you actually need. I’m being honest,” he insisted at Bennett’s raised eyebrow. “Of course I do want to suggest that you go back down to the recommended dose, but I’m not going to criticize you for the things you need to function.”

“Huh,” Bennett said. “...alright.”

Felix searched his eyes for something, and, seemingly having found it, retracted his hand and turned back to the sky. Bennett did the same. An unfamiliar, yet comfortable silence settled over them.

“Thanks,” Bennett said. He picked up the extra cup of tea. It was cold, and he didn’t particularly like tea, but it was still decent.

“...it’s nothing,” Felix replied.


End file.
